| I’m Lord Jedi Waves at sixteen
|
| Yo, Vinnie, blicky, I’m followed by tranquility
|
| My gun cha cha slide like dance floors into sixteens
|
| Shoot your Phantom doors off the hinges, I’m spiffy
|
| Watch the wave rip, four pound tips
|
| My bitch wears strawberry mystics
|
| Got double cups for you thirsty niggas, the winners
|
| Onslaught, we the Autobots, fuck with us
|
| I been fucking these rap niggas' bitches
|
| Invictus, Ernest Henley
|
| Thank whatever gods may be
|
| head, step you gator meat on my feet
|
| I embody all the fly shit you wanna be
|
| Ask about me, skyhouse me
|
| I fucked all the dope boy bitches on my balcony
|
| Turn your bitch to a wave slave, Lord Wavey
|
| Arm, leg, leg, arm, a bobsled
|
| Cool runners, these old hoes, they give the bomb head
|
| Barkin' up the wrong tree, parkin' on the wrong street
|
| Get your shit, split your wig, lift him up five feet
|
| Blow the weed, control the V, cops behind us
|
| Must I remind him? |
| The whip be like four hundred horses
|
| The meal be like eight courses, black on black forces
|
| Fuck the leaky faucet, torch it
|
| Water torture, I’m charged with slaughter with it
|
| And don’t fear, I must be acquitted, invoke the spirits
|
| Pen this shit in hieroglyphics, vague specifics
|
| Over there on the Pacific, let’s get it
|
| I hit the brakes, the ground was covered in ice
|
| Body smother, demise, head covered in lice
|
| Yikes, this shit’s disgusting, I know
|
| Daily News, Newsday, Huffington Post
|
| When the bulldog bark, pa, everybody cower
|
| Discretion is the better part of valor
|
| Drunk from the power, drunk from the Amaretto Sour
|
| Son got splashed like a shower
|
| Listen, I’m telling you I’m the shit
|
| The Larry Hughes three time felon of this shit
|
| I bust this motherfucker in the melon with the grip
|
| The of the Nuwaubian is a gift
|
| I splash son, I ain’t even know his government
|
| The two Glocks twins like Doublemint
|
| Y’all on some other shit, all of it’s trash, I like none of it
|
| Iraq through y’all masters for the fuck of it
|
| Y’all on some sucker shit, talking to the feds
|
| He singing like Mariah with that warrant on his head
|
| This dirt bag swine live in squalor
|
| It made all the gunmen holler |